Blood and Smoke
by Im.a.stitchpunk
Summary: Major Bishop, afraid to die in the upcoming war in Lior, made friends with an unlikely man, a man who represented everything she hated in life. Oc/?
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I own my OC, Hazel you notice any spelling, grammar, plot issues (especially plot issues), OOC, or anything else please let me know. Reviews are always nice.

.-.

My heart hammering inside my chest helps me focus my mind as I stare out the window of the train. I'm going to die. I'm never going to return home to snuggle with my kitten named Flea. I'm never going to see my parents. They're going to stand crying over my grave as they bury me right next to my brother. Someone started to hum and I clench my fists to keep from bashing my face into the glass until I knocked myself out.

"Relax." 2nd Lt. Jean Havoc murmurs beside me, his hand settles down on my shoulder. I shake my shoulder and his hand drops. Havoc's been my friend since I was put under command of Colonel Mustang, but a few months ago I was transferred to work under Lt. Colonel Frank Archer, or right, it's Colonel now isn't it? Havoc exhales, smoke billows out from his mouth and I wonder why he's allowed to smoke on a train. Maybe I just need to walk, transmute a few water molecules.

I stand and head towards the nearest exit. The train lurches and my feet spread wider to support myself, my hand gropes for the back of the nearest chair. Then I hear the humming and glance at a man with a white mask over his face. Lt. Colonel Zolf Kimblee, he works with Archer. I've only seen the man in passing but those gold eyes are unforgettable. I step forward and nearly collide in with my superior officer.

"Sorry sir!" I say quickly.

"It's alright soldier." Archer steps to the side and lets me pass by him. I exit through the door and find myself in the void between train cars. As I get closer to the edge the wind whips my hair until it's slicing my face. While my hair was pretty; light-light brown, down to my shoulders in perfectly straight lines, it got in the way almost too much. With a sigh I tangle the mass of hair into a half bun. Absently I touch my hip and collect water molecules in the air, osmosis will even the missing water out. I get a small ball of water and roll it around in my hand, the smooth texture calms me.

As a child my father taught me alchemy just as he did with my brother. Unlike my brother, I was good at alchemy, I lavished in the idea I was better at something than the Golden Boy that was my brother. So, determined to be the best alchemist, I practiced and practiced until I ended up joining the military, another step to out do my brother. Since State Alchemists enter the military as a major I immediately outranked my brother, not that it matter, the month after I was enlisted he was sent off to settle a small coupe in the west. His body returned in a black bag.

The ball of water in my hand lost its form when I lost my concentration and I came to when the water started to soak into the pants of my uniform. Great. Now it looks like I've peed myself. Quick fix though, I pull the molecules out and disperse them back into the air.

Now, like my brother, I'm off to war to die. Though it's unofficially announced this is a war I know better, my gut tells me that. We're quieting a the starts of a civil war in Lior… and I know it's going to turn bloody. With war honestly nearing I want less and less to do with the military, but I've made a promise to my country and I'm not going to back down because of my selfishness and cowardice.

When I enter the train car Kimblee glances over his shoulder and smirks at me. His mask is gone and I can see his face fully, the long black hair, informal uniform, constant smirk. His eyes always make me feel dirty, like he's undressing me. Mustang glances at me too, but his look is more of worry and concern, I often shared with him how much I feared death and I know that's why he's worried. I'm probably more likely to take my own life than to live through this war. When I sit beside Havoc he puts his arm around me and allows me to relax into his shoulder. I suppose I should just live in the last days I have. Havoc exhales smoke before smiling down at me, his blue eyes sparkling. Out of all the soldiers I've worked with I can honestly say I've connected with Havoc the fastest, easiest, and closest. Despite our differences we managed to become the best of friends, we went out for drinks often and I always gave him advice for women, but he never seemed to notice I was flirting with him. Eventually I gave up flirting with Havoc, he wasn't interested in girls like me, he liked big boobs and a dim brain, I'm too smart for him. Still, relaxing into his side made everything worth it.

"Major Bishop." Archer's cool voice calls over the clattering of the train. As quickly as possible I stand in front of Archer and salute. "I was curious if you would take Lt. Colonel Kimblee on a little walk, he seems to have grown quite restless." Kimblee's eyes were alive with mischief and disaster but I had no choice but to agree. Mustang visibly stiffens when Kimblee stands and walks with me to the void between cars. His pony tail whips around just like mine had just done.

"Ahh." Kimblee stretches his hands over his head and smiles out into the nothingness. Why Archer couldn't have asked Major Armstrong who is more than capable of handling Kimblee if he got out of hand was beyond me. The Crimson Alchemist leans back into the railing and smiles at me. "Major Bishop."

"Yessir?" I ask, my hands fold automatically behind my back, the lump of my gun feels calming under my hand.

"You weren't in the Ishbal Rebellion were you?"

"No sir." I know he's searching for more information, but I wasn't in Ishbal, neither was my brother thankfully. I'm not sure who he could think I was but nobody in my family has been a part of a major war like that.

"Hmm, you look familiar." His eyes start to undress me and I glare past him. "Can I ask a question, soldier?"

"Of course sir." Doesn't mean I'll answer it.

"Why did you join the military?"

"To be better than my brother."

Kimblee snorts and shakes his head, "You're not serious are you?"

"I am sir." My posture doesn't relax when he turns his back to me.

"Interesting. Is that why you're so afraid?"

"Sir?"

"You're eyes," The Crimson Alchemist turns back to me, "they show fear." I take a deep breath and try to let my body relax and not show signs of acknowledgement. "You never thought about the actual war part of joining the military did you Major? You just blindly joined something way out of your league and now you're afraid you're going to die." His gold eyes read me too easily. "So what are you going to do now?" He pushes himself off from the railing he'd been leaning on, hips first, and walks towards me. I walk backwards into the opposite railing until he has me pinned, his hands gripping the railing right against my hips. His hands are warm, even through my uniform. "Do you want to kill yourself, soldier? Disgrace your family and country? Or would you like some assistance?" Kimblee's hand latches around my wrist and I start to pull back until I sense the hydrogen and oxygen inside me shifting.

"Don't." I say solidly, my struggling stops instantly. The Crimson Alchemist smirks, he's turning my arm into a bomb. He's known for his explosive alchemy and I'm full aware of the molecules inside me moving to form the bomb he wants. He removes a finger and there's a loud snap before pain blinds me. My knees shake with the pain and I slump forward letting Kimblee control my life. I'm sure that's what he wants.

"I'm not going to kill you soldier." He scoffs and pulls on my arm until I stand before him. "You're pathetic and I can promise you, if we ever meet on the battlefield I'll kill you myself." His eyes burrow deep inside mine before he releases my arm, I wait for it to explode but it doesn't happen. My molecules settle back into place. "Enjoy that scar by the way." Kimblee licks his lips before he struts back into the train cart leaving me slumped over in pain.

I wait until the pain numbs my body before I look. Blood drips from a two inch long gash just above my wrist. It takes a few minutes of me pressing my sleeve into the wound before the blood clots. With a sigh I stand and straighten myself, there's a throb from the wound but nothing serious. There's some droplets of blood on my uniform, and a lot on the sleeve, but nothing too noticeable, I'll change when we arrive at base.

The door slams shut behind me, louder than I expected, Mustang's eyes dart to me and focus on the blood. "Major are you ok?" Mustang starts to stand. From the corner of my eye I watch Archer and Kimblee turn, those gold eyes narrow watching my movements.

"I just hurt myself sir," I brush the Flam Alchemist off, "got my arm caught in the chains out there. I was leaning too far over the railing." Mustang's black eyes focus on my own grey eyes but I know I've mastered the art of not showing emotion, or nearly mastered since Kimblee read me.

Havoc touches my arm when I sit beside him. With the roll of my shoulder he leaves me alone. My shoulder presses to the window and I lose myself in the land rushing by. Everything slowly turns to dirt and desert and I frown. I'm from the north, I'm used to the cold, not desert, I'm going to die of heatstroke.

.-.

My eyes dart around the mirror in front of me, I take in the clean uniform trying to notice any dirt or creases that shouldn't be there. When I don't find anything I turn my attention to the rest of me. Long, brown, straight hair, grey eyes, peach skin, too round a face, a little too much weight around my thighs. I wouldn't call myself unattractive but I'm not attractive either, I'm just there. And with my averaged sized breasts and rather high intelligence I'm not Havoc's type. Bummer, I figured we'd make a nice couple. Hazel Havoc. That would take a little getting used to but I think it would work. Given I make it back home long enough to buck up and ask the blond out myself.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I own my OC, Hazel you notice any spelling, grammar, plot issues (especially plot issues), OOC, or anything else please let me know. Reviews are always nice.

A/N: I just want to warn people each chapter is going to vary in length… like this one is incredibly long, I try to average them at about 2,500 words or so per , Happy New Year!

.-.

_Clack-clack-clack_. The sound of my boots hitting the floor fills the whole corridor. My wrist throbs under the pressure of the bandage I wrapped myself. To keep the blood from ruining another uniform I wound it a few times around with some thick gauze. I knock on a large wood door and hear someone tell me it was alright to enter. The knob is warm under my grasp as I open it and step into Archer's new office.

"Sir." I salute.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering what you wanted me to do… since I left so abruptly. I am sorry for that sir!" Archer smiles and relaxes into his chair. His icy gaze searches me as I stand in front of his desk. "I accept any punishment for my actions."

"That won't be necessary, Major. I assume your arm is alright." I touch my arm and nod. "I apologize for Kimblee's actions."

"It's no problem sir." I'm not going to disagree with Archer, especially since he was the reason for Kimblee's reenlistment. He was the reason Kimblee was able to undress me with his eyes.

"May I see it?" He holds out a pale hand and I lift my wrist, we both lean forward and he examines my sloppy medical skills. "I could dress this for you, better I mean."

"I'm fine sir."

"I want all my soldiers to be in the best shape."

"Yessir." I salute.

"As for what you can and should be doing…" The dark haired man leans back into his chair and ponders for a moment. "I don't think there is anything for you to do at the moment. You're free to do whatever you like until I send for you." "Yessir, thank you sir." I salute and start to leave.

"Major."

"Yessir?" I turn back to Archer curiously.

"May I borrow your pocket watch? I want to have someone tune it up and make sure it's functioning properly."

"Uhm, sure sir." I dig into my pocket and pull out the silver pocket watch, it lands with a _thunk_ on Archer's desk. "Is that all sir?"

"Yes, you're free to go Major."

I nod and turn on my heels before exiting the room. Asking for my pocket watch feels like an odd request, though I have noticed it ticking louder than usual, maybe that'll be fixed. But without the weight of the watch, and the _chink-chink-chink_ of the chain hitting my pants I feel naked. No longer am I a State Alchemist to anybody walking by I'm just another soldier. I always try to separate myself from the masses and now I've become a part of them.

The Furer had a sense of humor the day he gave me my Alchemist name. I'd taken the test late in the day, and there'd been a small drought for quite a few weeks, I made it rain. Literally. I made such dark clouds appear people thought there was an eclipse. The Furer, pleased and amused by my talent gave me the name Night Rain Alchemist. At first I was miffed by the title but after hearing everyone else's names I felt better, mine sounded different and wasn't something simple like the Ironblood Alchemist or the Flame Alchemist. I was the Night Rain Alchemist.

The new base is confusing and I'm forced to ask directions from a passing soldier. He's kind and points me in the right direction and in a minute later I arrive at Mustang's new office. Havoc and the others look up and smile at me. I settle beside my blond friend and sigh. "You alright?" Havoc asks as he looks back to some paperwork.

"Yea, fine. Hey, when do you get off duty? Can we go shoot something?"

"I'm headed there now Major if you want to tag along." 1st Lt. Riza Hawkeye says as she stands and straightens her uniform.

"Sure." I admire Hawkeye more than I'd ever tell anyone, she's a strong woman who's respected by everyone. She's what I always wanted to be. We walk side by side in silence, that's how Hawkeye rules and holds herself; silence and confidence. Unlike me, Hawkeye seemed to know her way around and in moments we were at the shooting range.

My gun feels warm under my hand when I set it down on the table before me, I keep it at the base of my spine under my jacket. Easy access. With plugs in my ears I get a few clips and set up a paper target. I'm not sure how far away the target was but it didn't really matter to me. The gun was heavy when I lift it and aim, I hadn't shot it in a while and I wonder if shooting a gun is like riding a bicycle, you never forget.

_Bang_. The squeeze of the trigger followed by the bang sends a shiver up my spine. The target flutters where I hit it. I smile and aim again. The trigger pulls under my finger the shock goes up my arms and down my spine. I pull the trigger again and again and again. The release is perfect. I can find my calm as I focus on nothing but the target. No thoughts of war and death.

A hand slides around my waist jumping me. I shriek, my fingers automatically clenching. There's a loud bang and Kimblee snickers beside me. Hawkeye leans around the little wall separating us and glares at the other alchemist before glancing at me. With the twitch of my eye she goes back to firing but I know she'll listen for me. Turning my attention to Kimblee I find him inspecting my gun.

"You could have hurt someone." I snap as I take my ear plugs out. The snap of the guns around me is loud but I'm horrible at reading lips. The black haired man smirks and glances up at me from under his eyelashes in a rather seductive look. "What are you doing here sir?"

"Taking a walk. Do you have a problem with it?" Kimblee leans forward towards me. I turn and set my gun down on the table trying to distract myself.

"No, sir. Just curious."

"Your curiosity could lead you into some dangerous places." The golden-eyed male murmurs.

"I'm aware of that sir." I fiddle absently with my gun and the clip I have left to spend. Kimblee's arm reaches past me, the smell of smoke and blood fill my nose and I reel back. He snickers but his fingers wrap around the cord to draw my target closer. I did quite well, a lot of body shots, a few head shots, and various shots to the limbs.

"You're a decent shot." Kimblee compliments me. "I wonder how good you'll do under pressure," he leans closer, "death surrounding you, kill or be killed, will you be able to keep your head." His breath tickles my neck and I shudder. Laughter fills my ears and he leans away, "I don't think you will soldier." He leans against the little wall and I decide I should leave before he turns some of my bullets into a bomb for fun. "Where are you going soldier?"

"Not here sir?" I ask as I unclip the target.

"Hmm." Kimblee hums and when I leave he follows me. When I turn down a random hallway he follows. I glance over my shoulder at him, he walks relaxed, hands in his pockets, shoulders drooped, eyes dancing between objects on the wall.

"Sir, may I ask why you're, for lack of better words, following me?"

"I have nothing better to do." He shrugs when I slow my stride so we walk side by side. I'd much rather have the maniac beside me than behind me. "Besides, if I show up to Archer he's just going to hide me away in some room. With you he can't get _too_ mad at me. I'm with someone also under his supervision usually he pairs me up with Armstrong… that man is a bore. Always 'something or other has been passed down the Armstrong line for generations'," Kimblee's voice deepens to imitate Major Armstrong, "it gets annoying."

So why does he stick with me? He's already stated I'm worthless and he'd kill me on the battlefield, a shudder run downs my spine. Does he plan to kill me? My eyes dart to him but he stares straight ahead, his golden eyes narrow for a moment before he looks at me. I look away and he chuckles again.

"I make you nervous don't I?"

"Sir, you could kill me with just the move of your hands. I've heard the… rumors of Ishbal sir, it's enough to make a soldier unsteady."

"Not a very strong soldier." He comments.

We walk in silence until we hear voices. Kimblee growls, grabs my wrist, and pulls me into a room to our left. My wrist shrieks in pain and I hiss and yank my hand from my "kidnapper" as he closes the door surrounding us in darkness.

"What th-" Before I can finish my sentence a hand clamps over my mouth and my nose is filled with the smell of blood and smoke again. I blink until I can make out rough shapes, the room's small, it has to be a closet. The dark haired man presses to my side and when I reach my hand back I touch a shelf covered with bottles and shapes. The voices grow nearer and Kimblee stiffens, I look at him, the whites of his eyes reflect the light in the room and I realize he's glaring. His grip tightens around my mouth as the voices stop right outside the door. Of course they would. How cliché. Kimblee's other hand grabs my wrist, my wound pulses and I squelch a whine.

Molecules inside me move, the Crimson Alchemist starts to turn me into a bomb for the second time that day. Not knowing what else to do I press my elbow into Kimblee's ribs. He growls and just then the voices walk away. Slowly he removes his hands, my molecules going to normal.

"What the hell?" I hiss pulling my hand away from him so I can rub my wrist.

"Mustang." He says as way of explanation. When I glare he continues sounding irritated, "Mustang believes the rumors and wants me out of the military," for good reason, Kimblee's insane, "if he sees me out, alone, with you, his little pet, he'd …" The alchemist trails off, his eyes narrowing and his lips pulling into a smirk.

"Sir?" I step away getting the feeling he was about to pounce on me like I was a lamb ready for slaughter. My wrist bumps into the doorknob as Kimblee advances on me. The doorknob won't turn under my nervous fingers, the tall man approaches until he's right on top of me. The door flies open when I finally manage to move my fingers, I stumble backwards caught off balance and land hard on my ass. The dark haired man smiles down at me and offers his hand up. I take it and he pulls me to my feet.

When my feet are securely under me Kimblee starts walking off. Not knowing what else to do I follow him. He leads me back to Archer's office. The pale man doesn't look up when we enter and Kimblee drapes himself over one of the couches. I stand off to the side, hands behind my back trying to be professional.

"Where were you Kimblee?" Archer asks in a cold voice.

"Hanging out with Major Bishop here."

Archer looks up and notices me. "Very well." Just like that he's back to his work. I assume that's a good sign that I haven't done anything wrong. "Major, would you escort Lt. Colonel Kimblee back to his room for the evening?"

"Uh, Yessir."

"Hey, I'm not going to go hide out in my room for the rest of the night."

"Kimblee," the tone in Archer's voice sends a shiver down my spine, "you agreed to _my_ circumstances. Now unless I send for you, you are to remain in your room for the remainder of your time here. You will not wander off with Major Bishop_ or_ Major Armstrong… or anyone else, without my permission. Understood?"

"Yes." Kimblee moans before pushing himself from couch. "Let's go Major." He says in a snide tone. I salute, not knowing what else to do, and follow right on the Crimson Alchemist's heels. Once we were a few feet from the room Kimblee's shoulders slumped, "Archer is such a pain in the ass." I keep my mouth shut, no way am I saying anything bad about my superior officer. "Major, I have a question."

"Alright sir."

"Are you afraid to die?"

The sudden question shocks me into silence. He couldn't be more right. I'm afraid to die. I know it and I'm a coward for it. But telling someone like Kimblee who has threatened to kill me before is not the best idea.

"Soldier I asked you a question." My superior officer says in an authoritative voice.

"Sir…" My brain scrambles to find a way to avoid answering when I find nothing solid I sigh. "Yessir."

"How interesting. Someone afraid to die joins the military? Because they want to be better than their brother. Sounds stupid right?"

"… Yessir."

"I don't know why you're afraid to die." Kimblee says absently. "We're worthless creatures anyways. Humans do nothing but live, kill, and die."

"That's a grotesque summation of human life." I murmur.

"It's true. Besides, have you ever killed anyone before?"

"No, sir."

"You're missing out." His golden eyes sparkle. "Watching the shock in their eyes when they realize they've reached the end of their lives… their screams like a lullaby… Seeing the life leave their eyes as their bodies explode because of these." He looks down at his tattooed palms. "It's beautiful."

I don't reply.

Our heels click against the floor and I realize I didn't get my pocket watch back. My fingers fiddle with the empty space on my pants where the chain used to hang. Kimblee hums softly and turns down random halls, I don't know the layout enough to contradict him. Moments later we arrive at his room, a soldier saluted both of us as he opened the door and let me into his room.

"Might as well." Kimblee answers my unasked question. He's right, I don't have anywhere to go. I wouldn't be able to find Havoc for him to keep me entertained. The light flicks on and reveals a room exactly the same as mine, a small bed pushed against the wall, a nightstand, a radio, table with two chairs, and a dresser. Kimblee unbuttons his jacket and tosses it onto his bed dismissively. "I hate this." He says aloud as he turns the radio on. "Archer shoves me off into some dark corner and won't let me leave. Afraid I'll cause havoc or something like that." He scoffs and drops into one of the chairs. "You can sit or something. I wonder if there's a checkerboard around here somewhere." Kimblee's eyes dart around until he digs through the dresser and nightstand. He finds a chessboard and sets it up on the table. So, against my better judgment, I sit in the other chair as he sets up the board.

"I'm sorry you're stuck here sir but I can understand Colonel Archer's concerns." I say gently as Kimblee allows me the first move.

Pale, nimble fingers toy with a pawn for a moment before his eyes dart upwards to meet with mine. "Does this mean you'll keep me company soldier?"

"Ah?" I'm taken back by his question. I take a deep breath and formulate my question as I make my next move. "Sir, may _I_ ask a question?"

"If you want to." Kimblee sets his elbow on the table and drops his chin into his hand with a sigh. Part of me feels bad for him, away from society for so long, but then again he's a maniac.

"If you don't mind this assumption sir, you don't like me, at least the fact that I'm afraid to die," he doesn't look up as he moves his next piece, "yet you keep finding me and you want me to keep you company."

"Is there a question in that sentence?"

"Why?"

"You are a coward, yet," his gold eyes flicker to mine for a moment, "there's some odd determination in your eyes. Trust me, I've seen plenty of people with determination, war and all, yet you're not fighting for life. You're like an enigma, you're afraid to die yet your not doing anything to keep yourself alive. To answer your question, I suppose I'm intrigued." His gaze holds mine and I can't look away no matter how hard I try. "Are you going to move?"

My body jolts awake and I look down, quickly taking in the pieces and where they are. I sigh and move a piece where his knight will take it, then my bishop can take his.

"Interesting move." Kimblee murmurs, his fingers tapping the knight.

"Sir?"

"Chess is a game of war, right? You can learn quite a lot about people." His fingers make lazy circles around the top of the knight. "You sacrificed your pawn to lure my knight into death correct? Would you be willing to do the same in war? Sacrifice a single human to capture someone stronger like this knight?"

I frown. Of course he's right on all counts.

"That's what I thought." Kimblee smiles before he takes the pawn. "You shouldn't care so much about humans, I wouldn't think twice about using your life." For some reason, even though his words don't shock me, I flinch. My body instantly relaxes, trying not to reveal how scared the man made me, and I take his knight. "You do think ahead a few steps, I will give you that, but you don't see the big picture." He moves a bishop and I realize I've set my King up for attack. "Checkmate."

My eyes search for an escape, I try to think ahead about where Kimblee would move but his moves up until late have been rather random and chaotic, but now I realize his pieces are scattered all around effectively trapping me. "Good game." I murmur.

"Up for another try?" He smirks at me, looking through his lashes at me in a dark manner. When I nod he grins wider and resets the board, that grin made my heart hurt, the Crimson Alchemist, murder and all, has to be lonely quite often. Archer keeps him out of sight and I only assume that means he's trapped in some room alone. I feel sorry for him, I think.

The second game of chess follows the first. The third game I try my best to make a strategy but Kimblee outwits me. My eyes droop, my head hurts, and I'm yawning a lot, but I allow him to set up a fourth game.

"You're not very strategic." Kimblee states as he sets a pawn up in front of me. "You plan two or three moves in advance but that's about it, isn't it? Do you just not think that far ahead?" He looks up at me and I shrug.

"I tried to play very strategically when I was younger but my brother was always better. I feel I don't know how my opponent will react and move… that it's an unknown variable, so I figure I should only plan a few moves ahead… clearly that isn't working for me." I yawn and drop my chin into my palm as I watch pale fingers set up white and black pieces.

"War is about strategy. Understanding how your opponent will move and anticipating that."

"I'm not good at reading people."

"I can tell." Kimblee smiles.

.-.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own Hazel. If you notice any errors; spelling, grammar, plot, OOC, please tell me.A/N: I have all but finished writing this story. The next step is to post the chapters… and update the first two since there's a lot of errors in them and it makes me sad. Enjoy~

.-.

An alarm goes off loudly waking me from slumber. My head aches when I sit up, a light shines through a window I don't recognize. Suddenly everything floods my mind, the unfamiliar bed, table, dresser, everything fits, except the groan echoing through the room. Fast as possible I leap out of the bed, hands darting to my hips where I have my transmutation circle tattooed. Kimblee rolls over on the ground before sitting up.

"Kimblee?" I breath before looking around, I'm in my military uniform still, and I have no memory of leaving his room. "What happened last night?" I demand as I start to gather water molecules. The Crimson Alchemist has to sense the raise his hands in defense.

"You passed out!" He says quickly as he jumps to his feet. "We were playing chess and you took a long time to make a move, I figured you were trying to use some strategy for once, and then you just drop to the table. I thought you were dead actually." A smile pulls over his lips, "Anyways, I would have moved you back to your room but the soldier wasn't sure where your room was… and when I tried to pick you up you started kicking and flailing like some fish out of water." His hand rubs his jaw, "You hit me hard too. I figured it'd be safest to let you sleep here."

I give him a look as I run my fingers through my tangled mass of hair. Doubt runs through my bones as Kimblee straightens out his uniform.

"You _can_ trust me you know." He mutters before kicking into his boots. "Are you going to get ready? You're going to be late reporting if you just stand there looking at me like I raped you."

Fear of being late and having to deal with Archer's punishment forces my body to move, running fingers through my hair, mashing my feet into my boots, trying to straighten my uniform, doing everything all at once. Kimblee lets me use some toothpaste to brush my teeth with my finger. This will be the last time I play late night chess with this man. I must have gotten ready quickly because the golden-eyed man smiles at me as I exit his room, a look that says he's impressed.

"You're hair's still knotted." Kimblee informs me coolly. I huff and decide to just ball the mass up into a bun and leave it be. My feet practically run down the halls as I try and report on time. I knock quickly on Archer's door before entering and saluting the icy man. "Major Bishop reporting for duty sir."

He smiles, "Lieutenant Smith informed you had a late night last night." I feel my face flush. "I'm glad you're keeping Kimblee company, he get's unruly if he's left alone too long." I nod my head. "Here, I have some papers I need Mustang to sign, and can you tell him I wish to speak to him when he has a moment?"

"Yessir." I take the stack of papers from Archer and leave the office. A nearby soldier is polite enough to point me in the right direction and I arrive at Mustang's office in no time. Everyone looks up at me when I enter. I greet them warmly and set the stack of papers down on Mustang's desk. "Sir, Colonel Archer asks that, when you have a moment, he would like to speak with you… and he wants these signed." I gesture to the stack.

Mustang sighs but puts down the piece of paper he was doodling on to read over the papers I brought. I stand at his side waiting, I've known Mustang long enough to know he doesn't like doing his work, and Archer gets quite upset when the Flame Alchemist doesn't sign certain papers.

"Hey, Major Bishop." Havoc speaks up, when I turn to face him he continues speaking, "Where were you last night?" I stiffen, my eyes dart down to Mustang, "I went to your room to see if you wanted to go off base and sight see with me but you weren't there. I ask a few passing soldiers but nobody had seen you. Hawkeye said you left with Kimblee yesterday." Mustang stiffens this time.

"Sorry, Havoc, Archer assigned me guard duty last night." It wasn't a lie either. "I'll see what I'm doing tonight." Though there's a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach Archer is going to make me babysit Kimblee again.

"I was just wondering." Havoc shrugs and lights a cigarette. Even though I hated smokers I was able to overlook that with Havoc, the smell of an ashtray had just become 'his smell'.

"I'll finish these papers and bring them along with me when I meet Archer." Mustang says, "You're free to go Major." I salute and head back to Archer's office.

"Sir, Colonel Mustang said he'll bring the papers along when he has a moment to speak to you." I say when I enter the office.

"Good, now, I want you to go watch Kimblee. Keep him company. I have no further need for you, if I need you I'll have someone send for you." Archer barely looks up from his papers. "Keep him busy and try and not let him roam around." "Yessir." I salute and leave the office.

Once I realized the base was a large two story rectangle with a courtyard in the middle it was easier to navigate the base. I'd find my way to the courtyard and go from there. Kimblee's room was on the second story rather close to the courtyard. My room had to have been nearby. With the help of a soldier I find my room and gather my things, since I'm going to be babysitting I might as well have something to do. Then I take a moment to find the mess hall and get some food for myself and Kimblee since I'm not sure if he's eaten yet or not, then I head back to Kimblee's room.

The solider in front of the door salutes and I dismiss him telling him my orders. He looks relieved and gives me the room key before scuttling away. I open the door and find Kimblee sprawled out on his bed staring up at the ceiling. He glances over at me and smiles wide.

"Ah, Major Bishop, are you babysitting me?" His eyes take in my bag filled with various things.

"Yessir." I say. "I also brought you food, have you eaten yet?"

"No." Kimblee sits up from bed, "Set it on the table." I do so and set my things into the chair. "Am I allowed to leave?"

"No sir. Archer's orders." I say quickly.

He grabs my wrist and I hiss in pain. "Still hurt I see." He pulls the sleeve up and looks at the old, bloody gauze around my wrist. "Have you changed this at all?"

"Ah, no sir I haven't had time." Since I decided to spend the night in his room instead of my own.

"You'll get an infection." He states before standing and heading to the small bathroom attached to his room.

"Sir, why do you care?"

"Archer would kill me, or lock me away forever, if a little thing like that killed you." Kimblee appears with a small first aid kit. "I'd rather not die over something so trivial." His eyes flash before he undoes the gauze. A smile forms on his lips as he looks at the wound, it's a bright red, open sore. The tip of his finger presses the edge of my wound and I hiss, blood swells and I try to take my hand away. With a sigh the alchemist releases my arm for a moment before he dresses it. "Want to play some chess?"

"Sure." I sigh this time.

Kimblee sets up the chessboard and looks through the food I brought as I think about the game. "Thanks for the food." I tell him it was nothing as I move a pawn before I reach over and take a roll from the huge plate of food. As our game progresses I try and focus more on how my opponent moves rather than my own moves, he spreads his pieces out and attacks from all sides, so I need to learn how to block that.

By the third game I lasted much longer, until we were down to a few pieces each, but Kimblee, again, outsmarted me. I frown and refuse to play another game, my head's starting to hurt. "You'll never get anywhere if you get frustrated and give up." Kimblee states as he sets up the pieces again with slow, steady movements.

"I hate chess." I tell him as I dig out my sketchbook.

"Yet you played all last night until you passed out." The man tells me as he leans back in his chair.

"You wanted to play sir." I tell him as I flip to the first empty page in the sketchbook before I pick up a pawn and start to draw. We fall silent, my pencil scratching against the paper, Crimson Alchemist humming and tapping his feet. "What do you do when Archer… hides you?"

"Play chess with myself, sleep, blow up things."

Sounds fun. Kimblee grabs my bag from under my feet and starts to dig through it. I let him. There's nothing in there I'm ashamed of. I have three different books in there, another sketch book, a set of colored pencils, my stitch work, a notebook filled with story ideas, my toothbrush, my room key. With all my things set out on the table Kimblee starts to go through my sketchbook. Mostly that one is little characters with various styles of clothes, the occasional observation drawing, and a few abstract paintings doodles. I try and put the worry of how he'll like my art from my head as I focus on sketching the pawn.

"You're a decent artist." Kimblee mutters. Decent? That's all? I was going to be an artist before I decided to join the military. "Why do you have so many books?"

"I like to read?"

"You're reading three at once."

"Yes, your point, sir?"

"Why?"

"I like to read, sir."

Kimblee huffs and looks through my books. Two fictional novel, one nonfiction about a girl from Xing. He starts to read one of the fictional novels and we fall into silence. Occasionally the black haired man would sigh but for the most part he focused on reading. If this is what I'm going to be doing for the next few days I'd be fine with it. My predisposition was slowly vanishing. Kimblee isn't that bad a man after all.

A knock on the door causes both of us to look up and then look at each other. Kimblee stands and heads to the door with me on his heels. Archer stands on the other side, "Good, you're both still here."

"Of course sir." I step back when Archer enters the room.

"I wanted to be sure." Archer observes the chess set for a moment before he turns back to us. "Kimblee, you're not to leave this room or have anyone aware of your presence from this moment further. The Furer is arriving tomorrow and he doesn't want anyone to know of your existence."

"The Furer?" We both say.

"Yes, he's coming to observe Lior with us." Right, I'm going to die in a few days aren't I? "Be on your best behavior Kimblee." Archer's eyes narrow before he clicks out of the room leaving us alone again.

Kimblee scoffs before dropping down into his seat. "Behave… don't do this. Then why the hell did you reenlist me if I'm just going to have to deal with all these rules?"

"I'm sure the Colonel has his reasons." Kimblee grunts and goes back to his book.

.-.


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own Hazel. If you notice any errors; spelling, grammar, plot, OOC, please tell me.

.-.

"I'm going to take a walk." I murmur, "I'll bring you back some food ok? I'll find someone to watch you but you have to stay in here ok?" Kimblee growls but doesn't argue, more than once he's tried to trick me into letting him leave the room but I held strong and I think he's grown to accept it.

"Fine. Bring me back one of those pastries you brought for lunch, would you?"

"If they have them." I promise and just like that I leave the room. Instead of heading straight off I find a young soldier I recognize as one of Archer's underlings. "Soldier." I tap his shoulder.

"Oh, Major Bishop." He salutes me.

"At ease," it feels so weird to have people salute to me, "you're aware of Lt. Colonel Kimblee?" He nods his head and his face pales. "Perfect, stand here and do _not_ let him out. He's not to be seen by anyone." I pat his shoulder, "I'll be back shortly."

I hurry down the hall, I don't want to leave Kimblee alone for too long, though he listens to my orders quite well I'm not sure how well he'd listen to that soldier, the man didn't look that strong-willed to me. The mess hall wasn't that far away but most soldiers were switching duty so the hall was full of chattering bodies. Nobody seemed to notice me, despite the fact I'm a tall girl, I have to ease my way behind people just standing and talking and taking up space. The evil part inside me wanted to shove someone out of the way but I'm not evil, the more I think about it the more I think about _why_ Kimblee kills so easily, I'll have to ask him.

Suddenly there's a loud _boom_ and the ground shakes a little. Soldiers glance to each other but shrug it off. On the other hand, my blood runs cold. Kimblee. Food forgotten I take off, pushing my way through soldiers, tying to get to the door. More than once someone pushed me back or held me in place. My blood starts to boil and water gathers to my skin, the soldiers had the sense to back off and let me by. I ran until I neared the courtyard before I start to walk, soldiers run by, guns in their hands, and I follow.

Mustang stalks by with a large suit of armor and a string of soldiers. He doesn't even glance at me as we walk by, I salute until he's out of sight before I continue running. He looked pissed and the only thing I know that makes him make that look is Kimblee. Oh dear God, what has that man gotten himself into now?

In the center of the courtyard was a half destroyed stone block, a few soldiers standing with guns in their hands, and a bloodied Kimblee attempting to get up. I drop to his side and inspect the cuts on his face and the tattered mess that once was his uniform. "What happened?" I demand.

Kimblee smirks up at me, "Nothing you need to worry your pretty little face over doll." A shudder runs down my spine and I feel my face heat up, people don't compliment me anymore, why would soldiers compliment each other?

"You're too reckless." I tell him as I grab his arm and attempt to hoist him to his feet. Archer appears beside me, with a soldier at his heels and with the soldiers help we manage to hoist Kimblee too his feet.

"My office, the both of you." Archer clicks before spinning on his heels and stalking off with the soldier trailing after him.

If I get in trouble because of Kimblee I'm not going to be happy.

Said injured man drapes his arm over my shoulder and leans heavily onto me. My back groans under the weight but I put my hands around his waist and help him walk. His breathing seems labored but occasionally he'd chuckle as we walk at a much slower pace than Archer. Liquid soaks into my shoulder and I fear it's blood, that's never going to wash out. Suddenly it hits me, "You could have died!"

"Yea and?"

"You're so reckless!" I cry exasperated.

He chuckles, "You can't live life afraid to take risks."

"If I get in trouble because of you I will _not_ be happy." I growl.

"That's the kind of spunk I want to see from you." Kimblee pats my shoulder before breaking into a coughing fit. His whole weight drapes against me and I do everything I can to keep the both of us standing. The fit subsides and the alchemist stands again, we reach Archer's office and I salute while holding Kimblee up.

"What the hell happened?" Archer demands, a cold fire burning in his eyes.

"I needed to get food so I found a soldier, one of your's that knew about Lt. Colonel Kimblee, and left my post so I could get food. I was in the mess hall, I heard a boom, and I went running." I then glance over at Kimblee who smiles.

"I can't tell you _sir_." The Crimson Alchemist says slowly.

Archer laces his fingers and narrows his eyes. Whatever happened is above me, which doesn't leave many officers. Kimblee and Archer know, clearly, Mustang must have known. I wonder if Armstrong knows. "Very well." Archer says curtly. "Major Bishop, take Lt. Colonel Kimblee back to his room and dress his wounds. I'll be there shortly to relieve you of your duties. Do _not_ leave his side again."

"Yessir." I salute and loop my arms back around Kimblee who grunts and stumbles away with me. The halls are silent besides his hard breathing and the shuffle of his boots. Nobody walks by us, which is probably a good thing considering. His room is just as I left it, but the missing block of concrete outside his door didn't escape my sharp eyes. He must have blown something, or someone up. Suddenly it hits me as Kimblee drops himself down onto his bed. "You killed that soldier didn't you."

"Huh?"

"Didn't you." I point a finger in his face and glare.

He smirks, "He was ready to defend his country by any means."

"You blew him up." I storm into the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. "I can't believe you." My heart clenches at the loss of the soldier, despite the fact I didn't know who he was, what if I'd been here? Would Kimblee have killed me? I drop the kit down beside Kimblee before, none to gently, prodding his shoulders.

He hisses and grabs my hands. "Christ, just _ask_ me where I'm hurt, would you?"

"No!" I glare and yank my hands from his. "You're a reckless and horrible man."

"Are you insulting a superior officer?" The alchemist smirks and I get back into his face and glare. He snickers. "So all it takes to get you riled up is killing someone? You really are an enigma Miss Hazel."

"That's Major Bishop." I stand up before open the first aid kit. I can't believe he just took some man's life.

Kimblee says nothing. I go to the bathroom and get a wet washcloth before I stand before the injured man, one hand on my hip, the other holding the wet rag. Those gold eyes narrow and that smirk make my whole body shudder. "I have some cuts on my chest." He informs me.

"I can see that." His dark brown shirt is torn and turning dark with blood.

Carefully he removes the military jacket and takes off his shirt. It takes a lot of concentration _not_ to stare at his chest as I wipe the blood from a cut on his chest. His skin is pale and taut and I can see the contours of his muscles, nothing serious like Armstrong's, but enough definition to tell he's very in shape. Professional. This man is injured and needs his wounds dressed. This man killed another man just moments before. Suddenly Kimblee hisses and I realize I've been pressing too hard against the cut.

"Sorry." I apologize. "Sir, what happened?"

"I got into a scuffle." Kimblee replies before he suddenly drops back onto the bed as if the mere act of holding himself upright was too much. I roll my eyes before I knelt down and continued cleaning the wounds across his chest and shoulders. There's a small cut on his face and when I go to wipe it those gold eyes capture my own eyes and refuse to let me go. I swallow hard and force the look he gives me out of my mind. His eyes close and I'm able to work in peace, cleaning his wounds before getting out gauze and other fixings.

"Lt. Colonel, please sit up so I can dress your wounds… please?" Kimblee lets out a groan before he forces himself upright. Red blood leaks from the wound on his shoulder and I wipe it away. "Sir, if you like death so much, why are you having such a difficult time with these wounds?" I ask as I put some pads over the shoulder wound.

"Because," The Crimson Alchemist whispers, "you're here taking care of me."

I pull back and glare. "Sir, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know very well what I mean." He smiles at me.

"Explain it to me." I demand.

Kimblee laughs and shakes his head, "You're incredible Bishop! Fearing death yet _willingly_ staying by my side. Having an analytical mind but no strategy skills. Hates 'pointless' death yet bandages the man that killed thousands for fun." My hands shake and I drop my head. "You're so smart yet _so_ naïve." I let out a loud exhale before sitting back up and quickly bandaging Kimblee's wounds. He's right, of course, I'm stupid, I contradict myself all the time. "Don't worry Bishop…" Kimblee whispers, his breath hot on my cheek as I wind gauze around his shoulder, "I don't mind…" He moves his head and our eyes meet, his breath warms mine. He smells like blood and smoke and something musky. Part of me thinks he's going to kiss me and the other part thinks he's going to make me explode.

"Sir, I need to bandage your wounds." I murmur. He exhales, his scent fills my nose. I lean back and wind bandages around his stomach.

"Ugh, careful." The alchemist grunts as I dig my hand into bruise on accident.

"Sorry." I murmur.

It doesn't take much longer to clean his wounds when I put a bandage over the cut on his cheek he falls back onto his bed and kick out of his boots. He looks so relaxed and calm laying shirtless across his bed, the gauze on his wounds already turning red. Without anything else to do I pack up the first aid kit and put it back into the bathroom.

"Hey, Bishop?" Kimblee calls.

"Yes sir?"

"I'm hungry."

"Sorry sir, I can't leave you." My stomach growls too. "I _would_ have brought you back food if you had behaved." I glare and Kimblee smirks, his eyes still closed.

"Sorry doll, can't keep someone like me locked up forever."

I fold my arms and lean against the wall, as I do I think about death. Did that soldier get a second to think about his life before he exploded? Or was his life just over like -that-? I'm not sure which I'd prefer. I don't think I'd want to know about my death. I'd hate to have a long death, I want a quick death.

"Bishop?"

"Yes sir?"

"I'm hungry."

"Sir, there's nothing I can do about that." I squeeze my eyes shut. Kimblee groans. "If you don't mind me saying, sir, you'd be able to eat if you hadn't blown up that soldier and whatever else you did." He just groans again, he's like a badly behaved child, they'll continue to do the same bad behavior without thinking about the consequences, mainly because nobody's ever taught them it was wrong. "Sir, you can put a shirt on now." I say before I drop into my chair.

"I'm more comfortable this way." As if to taunt me, the black haired man stretches his hands above his head and arches his back. He hisses, the wounds must sting, and his body drops back on the bed.

"Do you want to play chess with me?" I ask.

"You _want_ to play chess?"

"Sure." Mostly I don't him to be this mope-y crap anymore. It confuses and depresses me. He's the reason he's here in the first place yet he acts like he's the one that has it bad. Maybe I'm enabling him. Either way Kimblee stood, slowly, and drops himself into his chair. I set up the pieces, fully aware of those gold eyes watching my every move. Finally I sit back and let Kimblee's mind rule the game. Halfway through our second game Archer enters the room.

"Kimblee, put a shirt on." Archer demands but said man barely lifted his head as he moves his rook. "Bishop, you're relieved of your duties for the evening." I look up for a second before I look back to the game and move my knight.

"Let me win this game first." Kimblee says.

Archer struts over and stands by the chess board, his presence bothers me and I can't think. I move my pawn into a stupid place. My body literally twitches as Kimblee smirks and takes my pawn. "You're not the best player, Bishop."

"She's improved." Kimblee says as I move another pawn. "Still not the best player." He moves his bishop, "Checkmate."

"Damn it." I growl before standing and looking over the injured man's pale chest. The bandages seem to be holding. "I'll be back tomorrow?"

"Yes." Archer nods his head. "Thank you Major Bishop."

"Yea." Kimblee nods his head to me. "You bring me any food Archer?" I gather my things and listen to Archer reprimand the Crimson Alchemist for a number of things.

"Bye sirs." I salute before I leave and head straight to the mess hall. I should have asked if Kimblee wanted me to bring him back something but Archer intimidates me every now and again and that was one of those moments.

The mess hall is deserted and I have no problem getting myself a snack before heading to my room. My bed welcomes me with open arms. My food is eaten quickly before I disappear into sleep.

.-.


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own Hazel. If you notice any errors; spelling, grammar, plot, OOC, please tell me..-.

My dreams are filled with murder and death. Faceless men fall to the ground in a pile of their own blood. The ring of gunfire and screams burn into my ears. It feels like a dead weight hits my chest as I stand alone in the middle of a desert. Blood colors the sand around me and for some reason I take off running. I find myself before the body of Kimblee, face down in a pile of his own blood. A scream sounds over the gunfire and I realize it's my own scream.

"Ah!" I bolt upright and realize it was just a dream. I pat myself down and let out a loud sigh. Kimblee. I strip from my clothes and change and get ready as fast as I could before I run down the halls. Halfway to Kimblee's room Havoc races by me. "Havoc?" I stop and turn to watch the blond run.

"Bishop!" He runs back, grabs my wrist and continues running, "Didn't you hear? The Furer is here."

"What?" My blood runs cold as Havoc tugs me along.

"Yea!" Crap! I had completely forgotten about Archer warning us.

We reach the entrance were we go our separate ways to stand at attention. Minutes later the Furer walks by, proud and smiling, with his meek little assistant trailing behind him. Something about her makes me squirm, how did a woman like her become the _assistant_ to the Furer? Still it's not my place to ask and I'm not about to get called out for treason or something stupid so I bite my tongue and watch the two, and a few guards, walk by.

Suddenly I remember Kimblee, who's watching him? Is he causing more havoc? Has someone else lost their lives? The second the Furer passes and everyone moves off I take off diving through blue uniforms. A hand grabs my elbow and I'm pulled backwards. "Where are you going Bishop?" Havoc asks.

"Ah, to my duty?" I can't let him know about Kimblee.

"How would you feel about going out for a drink with me tonight?"

Oh this is _not_ the time to be asking me out. "Ah, I'll see what I'm doing."

"Alright, I don't get to see you anymore Bishop." His blue eyes darken.

"I know, I've been really busy lately." Babysitting a murderer. "Anyways, I'll see what I'm doing tonight and let you know. Bye Havoc." I wave before I leave him behind.

"Uh, bye Bishop." Havoc calls out a little confused.

Inside my chest my heart clenches, I'm leaving the man I love for someone who represents everything I hate. What's wrong with me? Kimblee's door gives easily under my hand but he's not lying on his bed, or sitting in his chair, or in the bathroom. I look around the empty room scared and confused. Archer.

I'm racing off down the halls to Colonel's room. My feet freeze just outside the door and I remember my manners. I knock. Archer's smooth voice calls through the door and I open it quickly. "Sir!" I salute and drop my hand without being told. Archer's alone in the room, doing paperwork again. "Sir, where's Lt. Colonel Kimblee? He wasn't in his room."

"Thank you for your concern Major, I know where Kimblee is so don't worry."

"Ah, yessir." And suddenly I feel like I have no purpose. "Sir?"

"Take a seat Major." I do so quickly. Archer says nothing more and leaves me to sit there in silence while he works. After a few minutes, my foot bounces from boredom, my superior looks up, his blue eyes pierce mine. "Major, here's your pocket watch back." Archer reaches into his desk and draws out my pocket watch. I can't help but smile at the small silver pocket watch. My superior's cool fingers brush against my palm when I hold out my hand. The metal is cooler and feels oddly heavy inside my palm. Quickly I stuff it into my pocket and attach the chain to my belt. "Bring these to Mustang and you're off duty until I send for you." Ah, it's good to be me. I don't mind babysitting and running a few papers since Archer doesn't need me often.

Papers in hand I head off to Mustang's office. He's waiting for me and signs the papers quickly. Those coal-colored eyes burrow into mine, "What have you been doing Major?"

"Sir?"

"You haven't been in Archer's office, with Armstrong, in your room, the mess hall, or any other place for that matter." "I've been working sir." I dip my head, I can't tell him about Kimblee, he'd flip out.

Mustang sighs and waves me off. I gather the papers, wave a quick goodbye to Havoc and the others, before heading back to Archer's office to drop off the papers. The Colonel looks up at me with his usual cold expression when I set the papers down. I salute and stand back letting him look over the papers. He lets out a soft sigh before standing and moving to look out the window. From his window there's a clear view of where all the other soldiers are preparing for war. I wonder if I should be helping them but I don't want to ask in case Archer sends me off to the front line.

"The Night Rain Alchemist." Archer murmurs as he links his hands behind his back. "Hmm." He hums before turning to me. "How exactly does your alchemy work?"

"I can feel the oxygen and hydrogen molecules in the air and in various objects, with the help of alchemy I'm able to draw the molecules together until they form water. I can do just about anything with the water once I have it, freeze it, evaporate it." I shrug. "General water alchemy." "Interesting." Archer turns three-quarters towards me. "I never quite understood alchemy. My mind can't wrap around the idea."

"It's science sir." I say gently, "Understanding the world around us." I clear my throat and Archer looks at me, his eyes burning into mine.

"I can see why Kimblee listens to your orders." The blue eyed man says gently.

"Sir?"

"Kimblee rarely listens to anyone except you, the Furer and myself." He settles himself back down into his desk and looks up at me. "You hold yourself differently than most soldiers, you stand proud yet you know your place." Again with the contradicting stuff? Are men just attracted to contradictions? "You're free to go Major."

I nod, salute, and leave the room feeling strange. Both Kimblee and Archer seemed to like me in a way more than what they let on, the way they talk and act around me. Archer is much more subtle about it than Kimblee. But neither of them are what I want. I want Havoc, a man who doesn't make me shudder in fear at the mere glance of his eyes. My boots clack against the floor and I stop in front of a familiar door. Without knocking I enter and immediately cover my eyes.

"Sorry sir!" I say loudly trying to un-see the Crimson Alchemist in nothing more than a small towel around his waist revealing far more skin than I ever wanted to see.

"Bishop?" The man seems surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I…" I had no answer for him.

"For Christ's sake close the door." That rough voice snaps and I fumble awkwardly with the door. Behind me I hear the sound of his towel hitting the ground and I freeze. "What are you doing here, soldier?"

"I don't know sir!" I say quickly, trying to avoid looking over my shoulder. No matter how hard I try I can't stop thinking about how long and toned his legs were and how his wounds were so red against his lightly tanned skin.

"Don't move." He huffs. As if I were going to turn around and see him naked. The shuffle of clothing sounds behind me and after a moment he clears his throat, "You can turn now." I do so slowly only to find Kimblee standing there shirtless with a first aid kit in his hands. "You may as well take care of my wounds since you're here." Already the scars looked better, he was just overreacting yesterday. My eyes drift upwards to look at Kimblee under my bangs, his face is more pink, did I embarrass him?, and his hair is free of its pony tail and clinging to his shoulders like long tentacles.

He settles himself onto his bed and I work on bandaging his wounds. Neither of us say anything as I work. His skin is still wet from his shower and his hair clings to the back of my hand when I move it from his shoulders to bandage the area. The alchemist exhales, his breath warms my cheek as I wind gauze around his shoulder. "Sorry you had to see me like that." "The Crimson Alchemist apologizing? What blasphemy is this?" I tease.

Kimblee snickers, "You're right. It is your fault you walked in on me."

"I wasn't sure where you were and I wanted to check one last time… I guess I forgot to knock." "You guess?" His laugh makes my ears ring. I tape a bandage to his cheek despite the fact it's nothing more than a small line. He's a quick healer I guess. "Thanks Bishop."

"You're welcome sir."

"Can you call me Kimblee at least?" He sighs.

"Ah sir?"

"Indulge me for the evening." He says.

"Ah, alright… Kimblee." I like the way his name sounds on my tongue but it feels odd for some reason, too informal.

He smiles and picks up his shirt from the bed. While his face is covered with the black material of his shirt my eyes dance across his stomach, taking in one last glimpse. My senses come to me and I look away, I shouldn't be looking over my superior officer like that. "Let's play a game of chess."

I huff, I don't like chess.

"Indulge me for the evening." He says again as he settles into his chair to set up our chess game. For some reason I settle beside him and start to play a game. "Remember this," Kimblee says as he moves his pawn, "we're nothing more than pawns in life, there are people more powerful than us that control everything we do." I move my bishop as I think over his words, is that some warning? Has someone told him to do something? Is that why he's acting like he's going to leave for good? "Take my advice, lay low, don't draw attention to yourself."

"Alright Kimblee." I promise.

We play chess and for a while it seems like I'll finally win. My pieces move over the board effectively stopping and eliminating Kimblee's attempts to strike. Just when I think I'm going to win Kimblee moves his knight and, "Check mate."

"Ugh." I flop back into my seat irritated. "This is why I don't play chess."

"You've improved though. Keep playing, alright?" I nod. "Sir, can I ask a question?"

"No." Kimblee says firmly.

We fall silent before I try again, "_Kimblee_, can I ask a question?"

"Yea, what?"

"Are you leaving?"

"Can't tell ya Bishop."

"Alright."

Kimblee sets up the board again without asking me. His fingers bump into one of the pieces and it rolls off the table. We both bend to pick it up and our fingers brush, his are warm and soft. Unlike most instances where people brush fingers and their hands immediately jump away, Kimblee just continues reaching for the piece. Some electricity races down my spine when I sit back up and watch Kimblee set up the pieces.

We play another game, I lose again. The sun starts to set and we play another game. I get closer to winning but still I didn't win. We were about to start our fourth game but a knock on the door makes us both look up. Gold eyes meet mine before he stands and pats his pants back into place. Behind the door stands Archer.

"Come with me Major Bishop. Kimblee… you know what you have to do." Kimblee nods and steps back to let me walk by. As I pass him my eyes strain to meet his but his gaze look everywhere but towards me. I sigh and follow after Archer. "I want you to clean my office, we'll be having a meeting with the Furer momentarily."

Why I need to clean a perfectly spotless office is beyond me. Still I organize the papers on his desk, wipe down the windows, make sure the twin couches are clean and the table is smudge-less.

Moments later the Furer, Mustang, and Armstrong arrive. I salute them before standing at the edge of Archer's desk. Said man opens the window and peers out as the sky turns darker and the soldiers outside line up. Preparing for war. War. Exactly what Archer wants, he's raring to dive head first into war and he expresses his wish. Mustang shoots him down quickly, some kid, Ed, Edward Elric?, is in Lior and says they don't want war and they're at peace. Of course Archer won't have any of it. I stay back, it's not my place to express my opinion but I don't want war personally. War means death.

"We can't launch a war without reason." Archer growls under his breath because he knows they're right. The Furer says for us to wait and see what happens before everyone disperses. I stay standing and watch the icy man's hands grip the windowsill as he glares out the window at all the soldiers waiting for death. "I _will_ get my war." His eyes dart to me and I stiffen under their gaze. "What do you think?"

"I'm not fond of war but then again it's not my decision to make."

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips before he looks back out the window. I go to his side and look out the window, the sky is a beautiful shade of blue. Blue and black line up before his window. I look down at all those faces, are they afraid to die? Or will they welcome it with open arms?


End file.
